Chess and Cake
by Greenholly
Summary: Two missing moments from HBP. Ron thinking about his feud with Hermione and Ron and Hermione in the hospital wing after Ron was poisoned.
1. Chess

I own nothing.

Reviews always welcome.

* * *

Ron stared at the chess board, gauging his next move. He ran his hand through his hair and stared at Harry for a moment, to see if his face gave anything away. It didn't.

It was late and the common room was empty. The candles were dimmed a long time ago, so now most of the light came from the jumping flames in the fireplace. Valentines Day had been two days ago, and Ron was relived that the House-Elves had already taken down all of the frilly pink heart decorations.

Ron sighed before moving his knight to take out Harry's pawn. It was a sacrifice move, but later it allowed him to take Harry's queen.

Over the years, Harry had become increasingly better at chess, even winning once and a while if Ron was particularly distracted. Ron, rather than being disappointed that he had lost, was excited. It meant that he had to work harder, and concentrate more. He had gotten somewhat lax in his playing simply because there was rarely someone who challenged him. Fred and George had the attention spans of goldfish and Ginny got frustrated if she couldn't win, so she would just stop playing. But Harry was patient and a good loser and an even better winner.

Ron loved chess. It was simple. All of the pieces had set movements they could make. Ron was always in control; he knew what had to be done in order to get what he wanted. Recently, Ron found himself playing chess more and more. He had a habit of doing this when things in his life became confusing or muddled.

"Where's Lavender?" asked Harry, staring at the chess board.

"Dunno. Up in bed I suppose."

Harry looked up at him and grinned. "Some boyfriend you are."

"At least girls don't cry while _I'm_ snogging them," Ron shot back, regretting it after a second.

Harry looked shocked for a split second before bursting out into laughter. Ron let out a relieved chuckle. Harry, still smiling, moved his bishop and took Ron's knight.

"Your turn."

"Harry." Ron said, cautiously. "You don't really think I'm doing anything wrong do you?"

Harry sobered quickly. "I dunno mate."

"I mean, I...I didn't think that Lavender would be so...so..."

"Affectionate?" Harry suggested, though both of them knew that _clingy_ was more appropriate.

"Yeah," said Ron "And I didn't think that –"

Just at that moment, there was the unmistakable sound of the portrait hole sliding open. Both boys turned their attention to the girl with bushy, brown hair who had just walked into the common room.

"Oh!" she said, noticing the two of them. "I didn't think anyone would still be awake."

"Yeah, we were ju-" Ron started, but Hermione cut him off.

"Well I'm off to bed. Goodnight Harry." She said, offhandedly, as if she hadn't seen or noticed Ron at all and started up the girl's staircase.

"Night," said Harry, slightly uncomfortably, right before they heard Hermione's door close.

Harry cast a glance at Ron, who was looking disappointed and upset.

"Sorry, mate."

"Does she ever talk about me?" Ron asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Er..." said Harry.

"Right," said Ron, assuming the worst. _If she doesn't talk to you, why would she talk about you? _Ron looked down at the chessboard and suddenly he didn't feel much like playing.

"I'm exhausted. Do you mind if we don't finish?"

Harry shrugged. "You were going to win anyway."

Ron gave a weak smile and gathered up the pieces and board and put them all in their pouch, despite the many arguments from the pieces themselves that the game must be finished. The boys climbed wearily up the staircase to their room.

"I can't believe we still have to write that essay for Snape this weekend," said Ron, grumpily.

"What? Oh er... right." Harry looked shamefaced.

"What?" asked Ron, stopping on the stairs to look at his best friend.

"I...er...I already got it done."

"When?" But Ron already knew the answer. Harry had been spending a lot of time in the library with Hermione, she probably nagged him into doing it early.

"Valentines Day," said Harry apologetically. "Since I had nothing better to do... I thought I'd just..."

"Right," said Ron, even more disgruntled. Now he had to do the essay by himself. He pushed open the door to their room.

All of the others were already asleep. The boys changed into their pajamas in silence.

"'Night," muttered Ron, climbing into his four poster and drawing the curtains. He didn't hear if Harry said anything in response.

Flat on his back in his bed, Ron allowed himself to feel all of the emotions that he had been holding back throughout the day. Ron had always considered his bed to be a kind of sanctuary. In his bed, completely alone, he didn't feel wrong thinking about a girl who was supposed to be his best friend in a very different sort of way. He didn't feel wrong being slightly perturbed at Harry for all of his various successes. And he didn't feel wrong thinking about his girlfriend with utter disgust.

Valentines Day had been awful. Lavender insisted that they go to Madam Puddifoot's tea shop. Ron nearly choked with the amount of perfume in the air. Everything in that place was a sickening shade of purple and pink and red. Hearts everywhere, bows everywhere, it looked as though Valentines Day had thrown up all over the room. All of the other couples there were staring into each other's eyes and snogging. It was awful. And Lavender expected him to like it. He couldn't believe it. It was safe to say that Harry had a better time writing Snape's essay.

At least he hadn't run into Ginny, who, it seemed, was set on taking the mickey out of him for being with Lavender. However, he doubted that Ginny, despite her passion for Arnold, the pigmy puff, would ever set foot in a place so incredibly girly. He smiled as he pictured Ginny knocking a tea tray right out of Madam Puddifoot's hands. He would never admit it, but he admired his little sister for her level-headedness. She and Hermione weren't the girly sort in the least.

Well... Ron knew that Ginny wasn't that girly. But he wondered about Hermione. She didn't wear any makeup or do anything with her hair, but he wondered if she really did like frilly things and bows. He had never, in all the time he had known her, been in her room. He had gotten very curious about her room last year and had even tried to see it before the staircase to the girl's dormitories turned into a giant stone slide. He had never been to her house, though she'd been to his plenty of times, the closest he'd come to seeing a space of Hermione's was when she roomed with Ginny at the Burrow, and that hardly counted.

He tried to imagine Hermione in a pink room with frills on the bedspread, but he couldn't quite manage it. Her room was probably wall to wall bookcases and a big, comfy armchair for reading.

He sighed. He missed Hermione. He missed all of the silly little things he never thought twice about when they were friends. He missed the way that she absentmindedly bounced her quill up and down on her thumb if she was thinking hard over an essay. He missed watching her butter her toast at breakfast so that it was completely even. He missed her enthusiasm for Quidditch even though she knew nothing about it. He missed the staccato way she answered questions in class. He missed her voice. Sometimes the only reason he paid attention in class was so that he could listen to her voice and pretend, just for a little while, that she was talking to him. He had been trying to speak with her ever since Christmas, but it was no use. She was as stubborn as ever and things didn't look as though they were going to clear up anytime soon.

He never thought things with Lavender would last this long, he thought she would just give him up as soon as she was done with him. No such luck. Especially not after Valentines Day when she told him, that she "wuved" him.

Ron cringed in the darkness. He had simply gaped at Lavender before muttering "Yeah...um... oh look are those scones?"

She had given him a handmade Valentine. It was a pink heart edged with lace that had Won-Won written on the front in gold, loopy letters. So much purple glitter erupted when Ron had opened it that he was temporarily blinded. When the glitter cloud had finally settled (mostly on Ron's jumper and hair) Ron could see a picture of him and Lavender snogging. In the same loopy gold letters, the card proclaimed "Me and My Wuv."

Ron had gotten Lavender a set of hair barrettes with pink flowers on them.

Ron yawned. He was getting tired. He settled into the bed with a sigh, wondering idly what Lavender might get him for his birthday and if Hermione would have acknowledged his existence by then before drifting off into sleep.


	2. Cake

I own nothing.

Reviews always welcome.

* * *

"Mr. Weasley, you have a visitor," said Madam Pomfrey irritably. Ron didn't blame her, she had been dealing with his distressed parents and family for the past day and a half, who refused to leave until he had woken up, not to mention Hagrid, Harry and worst of all, Lavender.

Ron was curious, he glanced at the little clock on his bedside table. Lavender had left just a half an hour ago for class, and Harry and Ginny weren't due in until after dinner.

Madam Pomfrey stepped aside to reveal Hermione Granger, standing about eight feet away, holding a tin in her hand and looking terrified.

Ron swallowed hard. He was pretty sure he had been transfigured into a hummingbird at the rate his heart was going. He wasn't sure he was ready for this, but he wanted to talk to Hermione so much that he felt like leaping out of bed and hugging her.

"Hi," she said in an unusually high pitched and breathy voice.

"Er... Hi," Ron's hands were clammy.

"I... Well, I just thought I would come in and check on how you were doing."

Ron could swear that she was shaking slightly and avoiding his eyes. He, on the other hand, couldn't stop gaping at her. She looked lovely. She was wearing a powder blue jumper and a light purple skirt that went down just a little below her knees. Light was streaming in through a window behind her caused her to glow like an angel.

"Much better."

"Good."

There were so many things Ron had stored up in his mind to say to her once she was finally speaking to him again. And now, with her standing before him, biting her bottom lip and shaking, all of them left his head.

"I... I heard your birthday wasn't that great." She said coming closer to the bed in short, hesitant steps.

Ron smiled weakly. He had been drugged, then he had punched his best friend, then he had yelled at his girlfriend, then he had been brought careening back into cold reality and _then _he had been poisoned. Yeah, not the best of birthdays.

"So I... uh...I brought you this," she held out the tin to him, as if she couldn't keep it in her hand one second longer. Ron took it and her hand immediately fell back to her side.

"I...um... it's just..." she stuttered.

Ron opened the tin, inside was a slice of chocolate cake and a fork.

"I asked Madam Pomfrey ahead of time and she said that it was alright for you to have it," she said, sounding defensive.

"This is brilliant!" said Ron, grinning from ear to ear.

Hermione smiled genuinely and seemed to relax a little.

"Have a seat, Hermione," he said, gathering up a little courage.

"Oh! Alright." Hermione sat in the chair next to his bed and watched him take a bite of the cake.

His eyes widened in surprise. "This is good. Where did you get it?"

"From the house-elves," she said simply. Ron should have known.

"How many of them did you try to free while you were down there?" asked Ron with a lopsided grin.

"Oh Ron! I'm sorry!" Hermione burst out as if she had been holding her apology in her throat the whole time she hadn't been speaking to him. He could see tell-tale signs of tears starting in her eyes.

"For what?" Ron was genuinely confused. _He _was the one who had mucked things up between them.

"For being so mad at you. For not talking to you and ignoring you. Ron, you could have died!" At that, Hermione did start to cry.

Ron set the tin on his bedside table. He swallowed again, this time he felt as though he still had great globs of cake stuck in his throat.

"Hermione, please don't cry. I'm alright."

"But if Harry hadn't grabbed the bezoar then..."

"Hermione, it's not like this is the first time I've almost died," said Ron with a misguided attempt at humor. "There was that chess game in the dungeon in first year and then that nice cozy chat Harry and I had with Aragog and..."

"But I was with you all of those times. I could help you."

Ron thought of politely reminding her that she was petrified when Harry and he were out in the Forbidden Forest with Aragog, but he thought better of it.

"It was awful sitting here and not being able to do anything to help you. And knowing that the only reason I wasn't with you on your birthday was because I let something silly get in the way of our friendship."

"So we're still friends?"

"Of course we are!" Hermione said fiercely. Then her expression changed and she looked about to burst out in a fresh wave of tears. "Unless..." it was her turn to swallow nervously "Unless you don't want to be friends anymo-"

"I want to be friends." Ron said as quickly as possible. He couldn't bear to even let her finish that sentence. Of course he wanted to be friends with her... he just wanted more. And it was his own stupid fault he couldn't have it.

"Good," She said, wiping her tear-drenched cheeks with the back of her hand. "Because I would have taken the cake back."

Ron laughed. Hermione gave a watery smile. Merlin, he had missed her. She looked so miserable. He couldn't bear to let her think that any of this was her fault. He summoned every last bit of his nerve and reached for one of her hands and held it in his own.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being so stubborn and making fun of you in class and I... I'm sorry that I broke off going to Slughorn's party with you. It was a pretty lousy thing to do, with you counting on me to go with you and all, but I guess you found someone else to go with." _Bloody McLaggen, _he thought. "You were right to be mad at me and send those birds on me –"

"No I wasn't. I let my emotions carry me away. I shouldn't have hexed you. It's not your fault that you like Lavender. A good friend wouldn't be angry at you just for having a girlfrien-"

"Hermione, you're the best friend I could ever have," Ron interrupted loudly.

Hermione looked shocked. Ron had hardly said anything as nice to her in the whole six years they had known each other.

"I missed you. I missed you every day when we weren't talking. I missed you nagging me to do homework. I missed you reading the_ Daily Prophet_ every morning. I missed you cheering us on at Quidditch games. Merlin help me, I even missed arguing with you."

Hermione's eyes were open wide and her jaw looked like it was about to hit the floor.

Three months ago Ron would never have been able to make a speech like this. He was always so guarded about his feelings for Hermione that he over-thought everything that he did. He was sick of constantly worrying about seeming cool and casual whenever he was talking to her. He was sick of hiding how he felt. He just wanted to be honest. He just wanted to do what felt right.

"I don't care who's to blame and who did what to cause us to fight. I just want you to be a part of my life again."

"Oh Ron!" Hermione flung her arms around his neck.

Ron winced. It hurt, but he wasn't about to tell Hermione that. Instead he raised his own arms and wrapped them around her waist. Her hair was partially in his face and he inhaled the scent of it. It was some indescribable mixture of fragrances that smelled like parchment, powder, cucumber and lilacs all at once. He felt the warmth of her body against his and he felt as if all the anger and hopelessness and worry of the past three months had just been lifted off of his shoulders.

Hermione pulled back a little awkwardly. They were half holding on to one another and face to face. Ron looked into her eyes and thought that if they ever had another fight and he had to compose another list of things he missed about her, those eyes would be right on the top of the list.

Hermione's eyes darted a little to the clock on the bedside table. "Oh! I have to get to class!" she said, getting up in a hurry. Ron instantly missed the warmth of her hands on his shoulders.

"I'm so sorry," she said, smoothing down her skirt.

"It's alright," said Ron, though, in truth, he was severely disappointed she was leaving. "When will you be back?"

Hermione looked surprised again and blushed. "Ginny said she was going to drop in on you after dinner. I can come back then."

"Yeah, that'd be great," said Ron, eagerly. He was glad that he wasn't going to have to wait another whole day to see her.

"Well, good-bye Ron!" she said, starting to leave. "Enjoy your cake!"

"I will," said Ron, feeling happier than he had in ages as he watched Hermione disappear behind the curtain. He grabbed the tin and fork from the bedside table and was about to take a bite of cake when he heard footsteps running back.

Hermione's head peeked around the curtain.

"Oh! And Ron."

"Yeah?" asked Ron, sitting up straighter, his heart racing.

"I missed you too," she said, and with a smile, she left once more.

Ron sat in his bed, grinning from ear to ear. He stayed like this for awhile before taking a bite of chocolate birthday cake and calculating just how long it was until dinner.


End file.
